When TARDIS Residents Meet Winchesters and Friends
by emileerocksyoursocks
Summary: Little bits of stories that I think up. Multiple parings, ranging in ratings. Rated T to be safe... for now. There will be a little slash. Doesn't everyone love SuperWho?
1. Into the Tardispala

**Pairing:** Eleven/Dean or TARDIS/Impala  
><strong>Words:<strong> 268  
><strong>Rating:<strong> K

"Doctor! What did you do to my car?" Dean stomped over to him. The dude had turned his beloved car a different color, and there were slight differences about her on the inside; little levers and switches. He didn't like it.

"I don't know what you're talking about Dean. She looks fine." The Doctor was smiling, sitting on the hood.

The Winchester groaned out of annoyance, "She's blue. That telephone box blue. What did you do?"

"The TARDIS fused with your car. Isn't it wonderful?" He smiled, taking out a handkerchief and buffing out a small spot on the windshield.

"Wonderful? No, I don't need my car traveling through time. That's what Deloreans are for." Dean huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, going to stand next to the Time Lord, wanting him to do something about this.

"Yes, but now I can ride in back with Castiel. Winchesters in front, Doctors and Angels in back." The Doctor smiled, patting the man on the shoulder before excitedly hopping off and getting into the backseat, buckling himself up. He poked his head out of the open window, "Can we listen to music on the way? I like your music, Dean."

Dean couldn't help but crack a smile. He didn't know what it was about this guy, but he made lots of things humorous. Maybe he could deal with his baby having a friend for a few days, "…Dammit. Sam, Cas, come on! Everyone in the… TARDIS…pala. Wow, that sounded better in my head."


	2. Unacceptable

**Pairing:** Eleven/Castiel  
><strong>Words:<strong> 258  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T

Castiel forced him up against the brick wall, all of his dodging and running away making him angry. The Doctor couldn't deny what happened with them all those years ago, and he certainly didn't forget. He could see the Time Lord hadn't forgotten. He could see through the handshake and false 'It's nice to meet you', and the awkward shuffling of feet when he'd invaded The Doctor's personal space on purpose. And now that he'd written it off, right in front of him, right to his face… it just wasn't acceptable for the angel.

"Castiel, let me go!" The Doctor growled, trying to tug his fists out of the angel's grip. He didn't need this right now, Dean and River were right inside the pub, ready to come outside at any time. They didn't need to see this in the alleyway next to it. He'd repressed the memories of Castiel because they hurt too much, because he thought the angel would never come back to him.

"No, you can't just look at me like you don't know me! I will not have it, Doctor! You can't do this to me, not after what we had." Cas was close to his face, harsh breathing warming the air between them, hearts pounding. He was so angry, so furious. So livid, mad and… attracted to him. The Doctor looked into his eyes and his breath hitched, and before he knew what he was doing, his lips were smashed against Castiel's in a hard kiss.


	3. Wings are Cool

**Pairing:** Eleven/Dean  
><strong>Words:<strong> 365  
><strong>Rating:<strong> K

He didn't know how it had happened. One minute they weren't there, and the next he was taking off his jacket and setting it down and they were slipping out from nowhere. The Doctor inspected his new wings as far as his neck would let him turn his head, seeing that they were golden, just like during his regenerations, but fanned out into a snowy white. The tips twitched a little, and the soft, fragile feathers on the bottom shivered softly as they tried to move around. He had a bit of difficulty, now having about two thousand new muscles he wasn't born with. He focused hard, and after a moment or two, they started to flutter and move like he wanted them to. He smiled to himself at the small victory.

"This is wonderful. Completely wonderful." He muttered to himself, hunching his back slightly so he could let his wings flap.

Dean walked into the TARDIS and shut the door, walking up the stairs and onto the glass floor before picking his head up to look at the Doctor. He stumbled back at the skinnier man's new appearance, and he just smiled back widely. Dean looked at the large wings sprouting almost out of nowhere from behind his back. His shirt wasn't even ripped where the bases should have been.

"Dude… What happened to you?" He asked as he circled the Time Lord, and the Doctor just shrugged.

"I honestly have no idea, Dean. But it's cool. I just have wings now." He chuckled, and found himself starting to get a better view of the TARDIS ceiling, when there was a hand on his ankle.

"Easy there, tiger." Dean held him so he wouldn't get stuck up there, or fall when he was high up.

"Wings are cool!" The Doctor shouted happily, floating for a moment before the Winchester was gently pulling him back down to the ground, hand on his shoulder when his feet touched the TARDIS floor again. He grinned full teethed at Dean, and hugged him tight, hearing a soft, deep chuckle when his wings followed suit.


	4. No Bullshit

**Pairing:** Bobby/Eleven  
><strong>Words: <strong>628**  
>Rating:<strong> K+

"Now… Bobby's a no bullshit kind of guy, so no time-wine space travel stuff, okay? You ramble forever and it's not cool." Dean told him, leading up onto the porch of Bobby's house by an arm around his shoulders.

"You mean timey-whimey? And I don't ramble forever. How do you know that he won't like any of my stories? He seems like a man who would love to hear stories." The Doctor straightened out his jacket, letting himself be led into the old house. Bobby was sitting at the table, going over lore for a case, reading an old, tattered book that the Doctor didn't recognize, but looked a bit like one he'd seen before.

"Because I do. Now, just act normal." The Winchester ended the argument, gently pushing the Time Lord forward, not meaning to make him stumble, even though he held back a smile at it, getting him back for a rough trip in the TARDIS.

The younger looking man righted himself and Bobby looked up at him slowly, seemingly wondering why such an out of place looking man was standing in his kitchen. The Doctor smiled warmly, and extended a hand, "Hello, Mr. Singer. I'm the Doctor. It's nice to meet you."

Bobby looked him over, then cautiously took his hand and shook it, "Hi."

The Doctor grinned widely and shook the man's hand with the enthusiasm Bobby lacked, then turned to Dean, "See, he doesn't hate me."

Dean glanced at his father figure and saw him pull a face, smoothing out his features when the Time Lord turned back to him. He invited himself and sat down across from Bobby, leaning over the table a little to look at the book in front of the hunter. Bobby tried to get back to reading, but looked slowly at the Doctor, only to see that they were almost nose to nose.

"Boy, what are you doing?" He asked, voice gruff, a bit reprimanding, making the other man smile.

"Just reading along. What are you reading? It seems gruesome." The Doctor said to him, and Bobby leaned away, taking the book along with him.

"I don't think it's your type of thing, kid. You seem too delicate for this kind of stuff," He sounded as if he were warning him, or putting him down gently from trying to help. He looked up at Dean, "Where did you find him?"

"Well, in my nine-hundred plus years, I've heard about a lot of things." The Time Lord cut in before Dean could answer, revealing a rather old looking bottle of whiskey from a jacket pocket that not even Dean had noticed before, setting it on the table, "From 1402. Hope you don't mind. Just picked it up on my way here, Dean says you like a good drink." He said, pausing so Bobby could take the information in, looking surprised. The Doctor smirked, lowering his voice as he leaned back over the table just a bit, "Tell me your stories."

Bobby looked at the Doctor with an unbelieving expression, then down to the bottle. If Dean was friends with this kid, and told him about Bobby, then he'd know not to con the con man of the group. This made Bobby think. He looked up to Dean, and the Winchester nodded in a silent 'It's not a joke'. The older man took a moment, then looked back to the Time Lord, studying him all over again with the new information. He set the book back on the table, raising an eyebrow.

"What do you want to know?"

The Doctor grinned victoriously, "Everything."


	5. The Odd Librarian

**Pairing:** Sam/Ten  
><strong>Words:<strong> 2,343  
><strong>Rating:<strong> K+

He was fifteen, and just had run away from his Dad and brother again. He had fought with his father, and yelled as he packed his things, Dean trying to stop him as he threw items into his backpack. He didn't want to be around them while they were high-strong and excited for the hunt. Who would be excited for that? Going to find something that wants to kill you? Only them. He didn't want to be a part of it more than any other night, and John let him walk out the door, slamming it behind him, the yell of "Sam!" from his brother going unheard to the young Winchester's ears.

He was walking the streets in the very late afternoon, grumbling to himself in silent mouthings, and he turned the corner, getting down the street long enough to jump at the screeching, grinding noise that suddenly appeared. He clutched at the knife in his pocket, and looked around quickly, catching eyes of a big, blue box breaking its way into existence. It whirred as it settled and materialized, and Sam almost thought he was hallucinating, or dreaming, passed out in the motel room with Dean feet away and Dad out to get dinner.

Sam approached warily, reading the sign above the door, "Police Box". What kind of police are these, Sam thought. He made his way around the side, looking for some sort of logical explanation, even though he knew in the back of his mind that there wasn't one. It was a big box that had come into the world out of thin air, and sat in a parking space on the side of the road. He heard the doors fly open, and braced for something to come around the corner and jump at him, but nothing happened. He tried to see without being seen, and heard a small "huh". He saw an arm reach out and pop a quarter into the parking meter.

The Doctor looked out onto the empty street with a bemused expression, then popped half his body out of the TARDIS, swinging around slightly on one leg, to find the young Winchester in a fighting stance, knife held out like he knew what to do with it. The Doctor knew he did. Nevertheless, he smiled brightly.

"Ah, there you are." Sam could hear the thick accent, English, with Scottish around the edges, and he straightened just a bit, furrowing his brows in confusion. The man beckoned him closer, "Come on, Sam. We have all the time in the worlds, but I can tell you're hungry."

And as if by design, Sam's stomach growled. The man stepped out of his blue box and gave an inviting gesture, smile not wavering once. Sam was curious, of course, and he cautiously made his way to the man, peeking in the doors, which he noticed had opened up the wrong way. He looked up at the man again, warm eyes and crazy hair, thousand watt smile. He stepped inside, eyes widening at the sheer size of the place, wondering what the trick was.

"It's..."

"Bigger on the inside? Yes. Oh, I love when you say that, Sam." The man told him with a chuckle, and he heard the doors shut behind him. He turned, not very happy to be closed in without understanding what was going on, but he knew that there was always a way out of everywhere... even if he was in some sort of looney illusion.

"What do you mean? It's the first time I've said it. I didn't even say it, actually. Who are you?" Sam watched him closely, gripping his knife harder, even though he had a feeling that this man wasn't going to hurt him. He was slender, and tall; he could easily take him down if he really wanted to. The man straightened out his blue suit coat and took a large intake of breath, as if he was going to say something lengthy.

"No questions until the end of the tour," He started, walking around Sam and out into the rest of the massive... control room? Yes, Sam decided, it was a control room. He walked over and pushed a few buttons on the console, pulled a lever and hit something with a wrench, then came back down to Sam, "You don't need to be frightened, I'm here to help. Oh, and, put that knife away. It's harmful and there's nothing here that will harm you."

Sam stood a moment, then slipped the knife back into it's holder and clasped the latch. The man grinned, "Brilliant. So, if you'll come this way, you can eat," He said, leading Sam into a doorway that seemingly came out of nowhere, "I'm the Doctor, by the way. And no, I'm not human. But don't worry, I'm not anything that you've hunted, nor do I become one."

The Winchester listened, taking in the information and trying not to ask questions. He wondered about what the Doctor was, and how he knew that he was a hunter. He wondered where he was and why he was here. But didn't ask, waiting to see how all this played out. He walked down the hallway with the Doctor, and it was pitch black for a moment.

"Oh, come off it." He heard the Doctor scoff, and heard a banging sound, which put him on edge, but the lights came back on in an instant after that. He gasped at what he saw; a huge library, looking sky high with books, a large chandelier on the ceiling. The floor was covered in copper carpeting, comfortable looking red chairs scattered around the room, unstained but protected wooden end tables along with them. There was a fireplace, and Sam didn't know how it worked, but there was a kindling fire. It looked fantastic nonetheless, warm and inviting to Sam, just about beckoning him to sit down.

The Doctor smiled, "Would you like to sit?"

Sam nodded, and he was lead over to the chairs closest to the fireplace, the teen thankful for it, warming him up from the night air he'd been walking in. They sat, Sam setting his backpack on the floor next to the chair, "This is amazing."

"Yeah, it is. And it's yours, so that's a plus. It was a good idea, very homey. I'm glad you thought of it." The Doctor nodded, looking around before reaching over to pour himself some tea that sat on the table.

"Wait... what?" The Winchester was confused. Very confused at this point, and he wanted explanations.

The Doctor looked at him for a moment, then got a look of understanding, "Oh, that's right. Sorry, I keep forgetting. Right, this library was your idea. We sat in mine before, and you liked it, although it wasn't your style. So, I had you write down your ideas and the TARDIS made you one of your own."

"TARDIS?" Sam asked.

The Doctor threw his hands up happily, waving them around, "You're in one. She's a type fourty, very beautiful, isn't she?"

"Um, yeah. Yeah, she is." He nodded slowly, even if he didn't quite understand, "So, what's the trick?"

"Trick?" The Doctor asked, getting up and heading over to a door and opening it, walking into its darkness.

"I mean, how is this possible?" Sam rephrased himself, peering into the door to try and see where he'd disappeared to.

"You asked me that the first time we met... Well, the first time _I_ met _you_." The Doctor's voice sounded far away, echo-y, but high up, like he was above or behind Sam. Of course, the teen turned and looked, seeing if maybe there was a speaker system. There was a small clatter of dishes, "Would you like some lemonade?"

"Um, sure." Sam shrugged, looking along the rows of books, seeking out another door that he'd missed when he came in.

"Brilliant." The Doctor's voice was closer now, and it startled the Winchester, making him turn quickly. The man gave a knowing look with a smile, setting the tray of food down on the table next to the tea kettle. He grabbed a book seemingly at random from the shelf, settling back into his seat next to Sam after. He glanced up at the teen, gesturing to the tray, "Go on, eat."

Sam looked at the tray, and reached over, taking half the sandwich from the plate, "Thanks."

"Oh, no problem. It's the least I could do for you. I only want your stomach full and your mind working. So, after you get back to the motel room, I want you to get some sleep." The Doctor instructed lightly, and Sam had a feeling he was going to do as he said. He watched the man take glasses out of a pocket and put them on before opening the book and beginning to read. He looked very calm when he was reading, almost other worldly. That made Sam remember.

"I will... Um, what did you say you were again?" Sam slipped the question in there like he'd already been told, just needed a reminder to jog his memory.

The Doctor smirked at him, "I never told you."

"You said you weren't human. I'd just like a little more information, that's all." The Winchester took a bite of his sandwich, looking at the man who supposedly wasn't a man at all.

"You always were a curious one." The Doctor grinned, "But I can't tell you yet. It could... corrupt some things in the future. It's best if you mention having dinner at the library with... the librarian, and nothing more. Keep this little adventure to yourself, eh?"

"...And if I don't keep this to myself?"

"Then Dean will want yo know everything and you don't know everything." The Doctor shrugged, and that was the answer Sam was wondering if he'd get. He nodded, and so did the crazy haired man, and they talked for a bit more.

They spoke about books and Sam's past, and a little of his future, the Winchester noting the Doctor's thoughtful choice of words and phrases. He asked how old Sam was and he replied, the man looking excited to know he'd gotten everything right, whatever that meant. Sam ate his dinner, asking what the odd cookies sitting on a glass plate were, the Doctor replying "jammy dodgers, of course" and Sam found they were quite delicious. They talked about the TARDIS, and it was mentioned that she really enjoyed housing Sam and his brother, and their friend whom the Doctor called "angel". Maybe the Doctor was sweet on a friend they were going to make, Sam thought, since this man was obviously not from his time. He had more questions, but knew he probably wouldn't get answers, straight ones, that is.

By the time they'd finished eating and the Doctor had downed the last of his tea, he escorted Sam to the front doors again. Sam thanked the mysterious Doctor with a control room and library that he'd supposedly thought up, and they said their goodbyes. The teen walked back onto the street, and watched as they box screeched and whirred away, fading out of his vision until only the bare street remained. He heard the parking meter click to signal its time was up, and Sam chuckled softly. He walked back to the motel, fishing the key from his pocket to open the door.

Dad was still up when he walked in, huddled around the table with a dim light from the lamp, going over papers he didn't seem very interested in. Sam watched him as he set down his backpack on one of the empty chairs and slipped off his jacket and boots. John looked up at him, taking an inhale to start speaking.

"Sorry, Dad." He hugged his father, one of the few times they actually did nowadays, and was greeted with surprised arms wrapping around him, "I just got a little stressed, but I'm fine now."

"Uh, okay, Sam." John was a bit confused. His youngest son was always ready to fight with him, and he was ready to fight back. He cared so much, that's why he'd stayed up, just in case someone called or he saw Sam out the windows of the motel room. He didn't mean to be high strong like that sometimes, he had to remember Sam didn't like to hunt as much as Dean.

"I'm gonna get some sleep, okay?" Sam asked, letting out of the hug.

"Aren't you hungry? There's food in the fridge." His father gestured, but he shrugged, maybe even cracking a smile.

"I ate at the library."

"Okay, son. Go ahead and sleep." John nodded, going to turn back to his work.

Sam put a hand on his shoulder, making his dad look back up at him, "You should sleep, too."

John smiled softly, "Okay. I'll pick up the work, and I'll sleep."

The teen nodded, and walked over to the beds. He was tired, and didn't feel like changing into his night clothes. He crawled into the bed that had a sleeping Dean in it, feeling his brother stir and turn to look at him with tired eyes. The younger teen just smiled a little and got comfortable, putting a reassuring hand on his arm to lull him back to sleep.

"Where'd ya go?" Dean asked sleepily.

"Met a new friend. You'll see him sometime, I think."


End file.
